Memory Lane
by Sarah d'Emeraude
Summary: The conversation starts like any other one, with Rick and Daryl being away on a run just the two of them, like before. Before Alexandria, before the Kingdom, before Hilltop and the war with Negan. Sometimes, they just need to find themselves alone with each other again, and no one questions that. So they go on run for a couple of days, together, and they talk.


**Hello everyone!**

 **Well, I have no explanation for this. I just had this idea, in which I thought about Daryl Dixon being a dad before the apocalypse.**

 **I hope you'll like this. Forgive my mistakes, English definitely isn't my first language. x**

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The conversation starts like any other one, with Rick and Daryl being away on a run just the two of them, like before. Before Alexandria, before the Kingdom, before Hilltop and the war with Negan. Sometimes, they just need to find themselves alone with each other again, and no one questions that. So they go on run for a couple of days, together, and they talk.

Daryl's never been one for talking much, but it's different with Rick. Everything's always been different with Rick. They're not talking all the time -sometimes they spent hours just looking for food and scavenging abandoned houses- but they eventually do, especially at night.

Rick talks a lot. About Carl, mostly. He confesses things to Daryl; how he misses his boy, how much it still hurts even three years later to think about him and how he never dares speaking about him out loud with Michonne because he knows how much it hurts her too. He tells Daryl about Carl's childhood, how he used to take him in his police car because the boy was crazy about the sirens. He even talks about his little boy's birth, how he almost fainted when he heard his first scream, and how he cried for an hour straight after holding his first born in his arms, realizing that he was a dad. He talks about Judith, too. How she calls Michonne "mom" now. How she's growing up strong and completely unaware that the world she lives in isn't what it used to be, and that it's somehow better. He confesses how Michonne wants another baby, and he doesn't know if he's ready to have one.

They've been at peace for three years now. The biggest threat that they had was when Aaron decided to ride the craziest horse they had, fell down and broke both his legs while on a run. He was with Paul at that time, and they both came home safe and sound, but it had worried the communities and reminded them to be more careful. Peace was bittersweet, and Daryl often believed that it lured them to think that the world had gotten better.

So when the night falls and they're locked in a house somewhere in a deserted town, they talk. They remember what they lived through, they share memories from before the outbreak and ones that they share. They laugh sometimes, they smile, they mourn.

So it's no surprise when Rick finally ends up asking about Daryl's life. It's not the first time he does, no, but for the first time in years, Daryl is finally ready to talk about it.

"I think Michonne is right" the hunter says at first, voice raspy with the lack of use.

He rarely talks, especially when they're together. Rick needs this, needs to talk to him about several things and he's always there to listen, but he rarely talks back. He knows Rick doesn't need him to, anyway. He just needs someone to talk to. But tonight, strangely, it doesn't feel enough for him. So he talks back, and Rick looks up at him with surprise.

"About what?" he asks.

"About making another baby."

Silence falls, heavy with unspoken questions.

"Do you really think another baby will make me forget about how much it hurts to realize that Carl isn't here when I wake up in the morning?" asks Rick again, almost defensively.

His hands are curled up into fists, and Daryl's not even sure that he realized that he does this every time someone speaks about Carl's death. He shakes his head.

"No, it won't."

"Then why?"

Outside, the trees are shaking slowly in rhythm with the force of the wind, but nothing troubles the atmosphere between the two men.

"Because it won't make things better" Daryl shrugs, looking down at his hands. "But it will make you feel better. Because all the pain you feel inside? Well it will turn into love, unconditional love that you will give this baby once it's there. Once you'll look at this little thing screaming and twitching in your arms, well. You will feel at least a little bit better."

"I have Judith" he tries to argue, but Daryl shakes his head.

"It won't be the same. And you know it."

It's more than he has spoken in years, or it surely feels like it. A strange feeling seize Rick, and he blinks a couple of times before asking.

"Is that what you did, with Judith?" he asks. He doesn't know why, but Daryl's words are awakening a curiosity that he truly never felt concerning his brother. After a couple of seconds of silence, the hunter speaks again.

"Yeah, I guess I did" he replies with a shaky voice.

It's the first time in years that Rick sees Daryl show an emotion on his face so freely. He is able to read him like an open book, his quivering bottom lip and his teary eyes giving him away too easily.

"You know I'm always talking to you, but you can talk to me as well, right?" he dumbly asks, because he doesn't know how to act in this situation.

Daryl has always been the strong one. For years, he's been there supporting Rick and his family, making sacrifices so that they would survive and find a place to call their own. But at this moment, Rick realizes that maybe Daryl wasn't as strong as he was showing the world. He doesn't say anything else and he lets the silence stretch between the two of them as a warm blanket. Daryl caught a deer on the way to the small house, and they had time to cook some outside before coming in and eating it, and he plays with the remaining of it splattered in his dirty plate, waiting for his brother to make a move or simply call it a night.

"I had a baby girl" he simply says.

Rick stops playing with his food, and tries very hard not to let any emotions show on his face.

"What happened?"

Daryl sighs, and Rick can sense the sorrow in the way his breath hitches. He used to breathe the same way, when people talked about Carl a couple of days after his death. He guesses the aching feeling never really leaves, then.

"She died, a couple of months before this whole shit show." replies Daryl.

He is still staring at the floor, and Rick does not dare looking up either.

"I'm sorry" finally whispers the ex-sheriff.

"It's all my fucking fault anyway" rasps Daryl, and from the corner of his eyes Rick sees his brother wipe off a few tears threatening to fall from his watery eyes. "She was sick. Her ma… her ma was a drug dealer, y'a know?"

Rick nods. Because he doesn't know what to do, and Daryl's staring at him expectantly. For once, he's not the one needing his help.

"I slept with her once, she got pregnant. She never stopped taking drugs, even when I begged her to. She left as soon as my baby girl was born."

He fumbles with his shirt, arranging the fabric so that a small part of his chest is uncovered to Rick's gaze. The sheriff looks up, surprised, and finally understands what he's showing him. Right above his heart, there's a small tattoo that spells "Lola". Rick has seen it before, of course he has. They've lived together for years now, and when they were still out there trying to survive, everyone saw everyone naked. He never asked, though, because it wasn't his place to do so.

"It was a good thing, you know. That she left." Daryl keeps going, eyes unfocused. "Lived alone with my baby girl for two years and a half, before she came back."

His fists clenches, and Rick wants nothing more than to reach out and hug him. But he doesn't know if that's what Daryl needs, so he doesn't.

"I tried to keep her, you know? I tried as hard as I could, but… She was clean. Or that's what she told me. She was clean, she had found a job… she took her one day, when I wasn't there. I left her with a teenage girl living down the street, a nice girl who was just looking for a bit of money, and drove to the pharmacy to buy Lola some medicine. Even after two years and a half, she was still so sick sometimes you know? The drugs that her ma took... It messed up so many things in her body. But she was still the most perfect thing to me."

Rick nods, even if Daryl doesn't notice. His throat tightens, but he keeps on listening anyway. Because Daryl needs him.

"She took my baby girl, attacked the babysitter and left" says Daryl, his voice breaking at the end of his sentence. "She left with her car, and I shoulda know that she wasn't clean, you know? I shoulda…"

He stops, takes a deep breath to calm himself.

"The car crashed, a few miles away. Lola… Lola died on impact. Her mother though…" he shakes her head, finally looking up at Rick. His eyes are swollen and red, and Rick feels like his heart is about to explode. He knows this kind of pain too well, knows how much Daryl wants to reverse things at this moment. "I wanted to kill her" Daryl confesses in a breath. "I wanted to kill her, and I still want to. She's probably long dead now, but I'm still so angry."

"Daryl…"

Rick's barely breathing his name, yet the redneck shakes his head.

"I don't need no pity, Rick" he says. "I know you know what I feel, right there" he points at his heart with a shaking hand. "And I know you understand my anger because you feel it too. You feel it toward yourself, because you feel like you haven't done enough. But it ain't true. I know that, Michonne knows that. The whole world knows that, and I want you to know that too."

He shakes his head, looking down at the floor again.

"So no, the pain won't go away. But eventually, you learn how to live with it. You learn how to grow from it, and you use this pain to be a better person."

They don't talk much, after that. Rick feels like Daryl needs the silence, so he finishes his meat in silence. He doesn't offer the rest to Daryl, knowing too well how his grief might have cut his appetite; and he doesn't talk when Daryl finally comes back from his thoughts and offer him a shy smile.

"I miss him too, you know" the hunter eventually says.

"Carl?"

It still hurt to say his name out loud, three years after.

"Yes."

"He loved you like an uncle" replies Rick, his throat tight and eyes shining with unleash tears.

"He was a good kid."

Later that night, when they finally agree to get some sleep before heading back in the morning, they lay in silence for a while, side by side. Both their minds filled with too much thoughts, their hearts grieving and heavy.

"I never thanked you properly for what you did with Judith" Rick finally says. "For taking care of her when I couldn't."

"I did what I had ta do" replies the hunter, and Rick can almost feel his shrug. "She's a good kid, too."

"That, she is."

Daryl takes a deep, shaking breath.

"She looks like Lola, sometimes. When she smiles. She got blond hair, too."

His words are heavy in the silence of the room.

"I never used her to get over my little girl" he clarifies, as if he was afraid of Rick's reaction. "But taking care of her, sometimes, it feels… It feels like forgiving myself."

He stops, looking for the right words.

"That's why ya should, you know… have another baby. Because for you, and Michonne… well maybe you'll forgive yourselves a little, too."

And when Rick falls asleep, Daryl's words echoing through his busy mind and listening to the sounds of his brother's breath, he thinks that he might finally consider this possibility. Even if he might be selfish for the mere thought, he knows that both Michonne and him deserve to finally ease their sorrow, even if it's just a little.


End file.
